


The Adventures of Dr J H Watson

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Various vignettes of the life of Dr J H Watson, frequently long-suffering companion of Mr Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.





	1. Help from Lestrade

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DW's Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts

As soon as Inspector Lestrade was informed by one of his constables that Dr Watson had been found lying injured on a street corner, he had hurried over to see him.  By the time he arrived a small crowd had gathered round and he told the constables to get them to disperse.

They departed, muttering “It ain’t right, what’s been done to him,” and “’e’s a good bloke, ‘e didn’t deserve that.”

“Who found the doctor?” Lestrade asked the constable.

“One of them young ruffians.  Not sure which one, they scarpered as soon as they saw us coming.  I reckon they found a body and thought they’d pick his pocket; then realised who it was and sent the smallest to fetch us.”

Lestrade nodded.  There wasn’t much point in trying to find out who it had been, it was unlikely they’d seen anything of use.  “Have they taken anything of his?”

“Not that I can see.  His wallet and watch are still in his pockets.”

One of the other constables had hailed a cab, which drew up beside them.  Watson groaned and tried to sit up.

“Take it easy, doctor,” Lestrade said.  He put an arm round his waist.  “If we help you, can you stand?”

With the assistance of one of the constables they helped Watson into the waiting cab.  As they were doing so a woman came up and pushed a scrap of paper into Lestrade’s hand, which he shoved into his pocket.  Lestrade climbed into the cab and told the driver to head for Baker Street.

As soon as they arrived, Lestrade leapt out of the cab and knocked on the door.  Mrs Hudson answered it, and on learning what had happened sent Billy out to help the doctor indoors, and Ethel up to 221B to warn Holmes they were on their way.

Once Watson had been installed in his bedroom, Lestrade left, promising to call back later in the day to check on his progress.  As he went back down the stairs he took out the slip of paper which he’d been given earlier.  On it was written an address, which Lestrade recognised.

He would return to the Yard, collect a couple of men, and visit the address.  No-one was going to get away with attacking one of the best men Lestrade knew.


	2. City Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Summer in the city

“But it is deuced hot,” Dr Watson exclaimed.  He had just returned to 221B and had slumped down in a chair, glad to be out of the worst of the heat.  “Do take your jacket off, Hopkins; you make me feel even hotter just by looking at you.”

“If you are sure that will be acceptable,” Hopkins replied.  “I would not like Mrs Hudson to be affronted.”

“Mrs Hudson has had plenty of experience of seeing Holmes in his dressing gown, and occasionally in his nightshirt, to be affronted by the sight of you in shirt-sleeves.”

There was the sound of feet running up the stairs and Watson sighed.  “Now what?”

Billy came in and handed the doctor a telegram, which he ripped open, and sighed again.  “Oh really!” he exclaimed.  “YOUR PRESENCE NEEDED URGENTLY STOP GREEN PARK STOP BRING HOPKINS FULL STOP”

Hopkins instantly leapt to his feet.  Watson took slightly longer, feeling the pull of the chair on his over-heated limbs.

“Billy, whistle us a cab please,” he called.  “Although frankly, if the game is afoot I would much rather it were asleep in the sun.”

As soon as they arrived at Green Park, they spotted Holmes waving to them.  Thinking it was of the utmost importance they hurried over to him.

“Lestrade and I have found someone selling the most divine ices,” Holmes began.  “And we knew you two wouldn’t want to miss out.”


	3. A Simple Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Overheard

“Mrs Hudson,” Bessie called.  “I’ve just heard Dr Watson say ‘Of course it’s flaming, go ...’ I didn’t wait to hear the rest.”

Mrs Hudson grabbed a jug, filled it with water and rushed upstairs.  She burst into 221B, but failing to see any flames, contented herself by throwing the water over Holmes.

“Wha-a-a-t,” spluttered Holmes.

“Bessie heard something about ‘flaming’ and ‘go’,” Mrs Hudson said.

“Oh dear,” Dr Watson said, “Not ‘flaming’ and ‘go’, but ‘flamingo’.  Someone has been stealing exotic birds.”

“Oops,” Mrs Hudson didn’t look particularly contrite.  “Never mind, it’ll do for next time.”

“What?” muttered Holmes.


	4. The Widow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - To the make up table

“Mr Holmes,” Mrs Hudson said sternly to the elderly widow descending the stairs on Dr Watson’s arm.  “You cannot go out looking like that.”

“I’m sorry,” a quavering voice replied, “I don’t understand.”

Mrs Hudson sighed.  “You are exposing your petticoats at the back, and,” she reached forward and grasped the umbrella the lady was holding, “You are not ruining another of my brollies.  Go and buy your own.”

Watson laughed.

The lady glared balefully.  “But it’s raining!”

“In which case, why don’t you wear Captain Basil’s waterproofs?”

“A lady shouldn’t wear such attire.”

“You, Mr Holmes, are no lady!”


	5. Doctor Watson by Mouselet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poetic Licence

Dr Watson is Mr Holmes’ friend

He tells the truth and doesn’t pretend

In a fight he can be sure to defend

When he’s hurt he helps him to mend

 

Inspector Lestrade visits when free

And needs some help, and then maybe

Inspector Hopkins comes to take tea

(But really I think he comes to see me)

 

The Ocelot helps as well when he can

The Sloth is quite good at making a plan

The Ferret’s too fat, of snacks there’s a ban

And me, I’m in love with my dearest man

 

But Dr Watson is Mr Holmes’ friend

Though occasionally he drives him round the bend

For one thing Mr Holmes knows he can depend

The doctor will always be there at the end

 

[ **Ocelot's Note:** Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.]


	6. At The Midnight Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witching Hour - a 221B

Inspector Lestrade looked round, trying to spot Holmes in the darkness. “He did say meet at midnight, didn’t he, doctor?”

“Yes,” I replied, “This has to be one more example of Holmes’ love of the dramatic.”  Holmes’ note had said, ‘Be in the churchyard at the stroke of midnight’.

The wind was bitterly cold, and in true Gothic fashion the branches of the trees at the edge of the churchyard were making eerie sounds.  The inspector and I retreated to the side of the church to cut out as much of the penetrating wind as possible.

After a few minutes Lestrade nudged me.  Two men, carrying a lantern and spades, were making their way up the path.  They stopped at one of the graves, placed the lantern close by, and began to dig.

Suddenly, a body arose out of the grave beside it and wordlessly pointed at them.

The men shrieked, dropped their spades and ran.  Lestrade took out his police whistle and blew hard.  The constables he had left waiting outside the churchyard responded, and the two grave robbers ran straight into their welcoming arms.

Meanwhile, Lestrade and I walked over to where Sherlock Holmes was brushing off the loose earth from his overcoat. 

“You know, Holmes,” I said, “There are times when I have grave doubts about your behaviour.”


	7. The Diorama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hidden talent saves the day

“Where do you want it, guv?” the foreman asked, as two of his men carried a large box into Holmes’ rooms.

“Set it on the table,” Holmes replied.  He handed the foreman a tip and the three men rapidly departed.

“I think you will find this most interesting, Watson,” Holmes said, as he began to unpack the box.

“Holmes, why have you purchased a diorama?” Watson asked.  “Somehow I feel it is not purely for our entertainment.”

“I shall explain my plan this afternoon, once Lestrade is here.”

Watson peered at the diorama.  “At least you’ve made a good choice.  Dutch settings are always very popular.  Does the windmill work?”

“Yes it does.  It’s mechanical, let me show you.”

Holmes wound the lever behind the diorama, the windmill sails went round and a horrible tinny tune sounded.

“Delightful,” Watson muttered.  “And now, since I had a broken night last night, I am going to have a rest.”

Watson departed to his room, and Holmes resumed his perusal of the stack of papers he had put aside when the diorama had arrived.

A couple of hours later, Bessie brought up two visitors for Holmes.  As soon as she left them, one of them drew his gun whilst the larger of the two wandered round the room, pausing to look at the diorama before taking up a position in front of the main door.

“Pretty little box,” the man said.  “Does it do anything?”

“Oh yes,” Holmes said loudly, “It’s very clever.”

“No tricks,” the other man ordered.

Holmes held his hands up.  “None whatsoever.”

Both men were looking at Holmes, so were startled when music started to come from the diorama.  They turned and were amazed to see two little mice-like creatures clog dancing, whilst the windmill sails went round.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” the larger man said.

Both men watched fascinated for a short while, before the smaller remembered why he had come.  Unfortunately for him there had been sufficient time for Watson to creep back on his stockinged feet and level his own revolver at the man.

“You may return to the person who sent you,” Holmes said, “and tell him I do not appreciate being threatened.”

The men glared at Holmes, but left without saying anything.

Once they had gone, the Ferret popped his head above the diorama.  “How did it go?” he asked.

“As a distraction,” Holmes said, “It worked very well.  You’re going to need to practise winding the handle more smoothly to make it easier for Mouselet and Aemilia to dance.  But as an impromptu first attempt I believe you should all be very pleased with yourselves.”

 


	8. The Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The instructions were "Close your eyes. Turn to your left and open them. Now incorporate the third item you looked at into today's work." I saw a briefcase.

Dr Watson looked at the briefcase which had been left in their rooms.  Holmes, he knew, would no doubt deduce everything about the owner, from his profession to what he had had for breakfast.  Watson’s ability was rather less, being limited to the extent of the owner having the initials VT and, from the luggage label tied to the handle, having recently arrived from India.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending from the lumbar room.

“Watson,” Holmes said, as soon as he had entered the room, “I believe I have mentioned Mr Victor Trevor to you.”


	9. Mangling The Bard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was anything to do with William Shakespeare.

“When shall we three meet again?” Lestrade intoned.

“In thunder, lightning or,” Watson looked out of the window and groaned, “in rain.”

“When the tasks have all been done.”  Hopkins verged from the original.

“Before the night has scarce begun.”  Lestrade didn’t seem worried at the fact.

“Where to meet?” Watson asked.  “Of course, Regent’s Park.”  Hampstead Heath was a bit out of the way.

“We’ll be ready, as it gets dark.  There to meet with,” Hopkins paused, to give his two companions a chance to join in.

“Sherlock Holmes!”

With that, the three swirled their black cloaks and departed.

Holmes sighed.  “And I’m the one who’s accused of being overly dramatic.”

 


	10. Where is he?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Hudson has lost her brolly.

Holmes has truthfully said I am not very adept at dissembling, but when Mrs Hudson appeared, demanding to know where the umbrella she had purchased three days earlier was to be found, I attempted to look uncomprehending.

She glared at me.  “Dr Watson, don’t try to deny the truth.  Where has he gone, and who is he pretending to be this time?”

“Mrs Hudson,” I began.  I understand many would say ‘my good woman’ at this point; I may not be a dissembler, but I am not stupid, “I’m sure I can’t say.”

Her gaze went round the room and stopped at young Hopkins, who had called in to take tea.  Hopkins flushed bright scarlet.  He had clearly been traumatised by his nanny when he was young.

Mrs Hudson turned back to me.  “Doctor, I am sure you would not want to put the Inspector in the position where he was forced to either break a confidence or tell a lie, so I shall repeat my question.  Where is he?”

I swallowed.  To be honest there was little point in trying to hoodwink Mrs Hudson, long experience of Holmes had ensured she would not leave until she had got to the truth.  (In fact, rather like Hopkins’ nanny.)

“I can truthfully tell you I do not know where Holmes has gone, or the name he is currently using,” I began.  Mrs Hudson snorted.  “But he was in religious attire and heading towards one of the fashionable churches in Chelsea.”

Hopkins gave me an agonised look.  I shrugged.  It wasn’t as if Holmes would be surprised at the turn of events.

“Right,” said Mrs Hudson.  “He’d better have said his prayers by the time he gets back.”


	11. Very Sweet (No Holmes, Not You)

A little while later Holmes returned to our rooms, having apparently managed to evade Mrs Hudson.  He brought with him Inspector Lestrade, who was carrying a cardboard box.  
  
Lestrade put the box on the floor and opened it carefully.  We all peered inside to see two puppies nestling together.  
  
  
  
“They’re very sweet,” I said.  
  
Hopkins sneezed.  
  
“Do you think Mrs Hudson might let us..?” Holmes began to say.  
  
“No!” I replied.  
  
“Just for a few days?” Holmes finished hopefully.  
  
“No!”  
  
Hopkins sneezed again and we all looked at him.  “Sorry,” he said, “Dogs make me sneeze.”  
  
At that moment we heard Mrs Hudson’s footsteps coming up the stairs.  I am convinced any mention of her name is sufficient to cause her to appear, a bit like summoning an unwanted genie.  
  
She knocked, came in, and began without waiting for an invitation, “I see the umbrella I thought I had lost has re-appeared in the exact position I was convinced I had left it.  This has led me to assume, or should I say deduce?”  She gave Holmes a very pointed look.  “That you are intent on hiding something else from me.”  
  
We all shook our heads in total innocence.  Hopkins sneezed.  
  
“We would never try to that, Mrs Hudson,” Holmes said with a smile.  
  
She gave him a disbelieving glare and looked around again.  Hopkins sneezed, but fortunately didn’t blush.  
  
“Oh dear, Inspector,” she said.  “I hope you aren’t getting a cold.”  
  
“Oh no,” Hopkins said, then clearly thought about it and added, “actually, yes I may be.”  
  
“Really?” said Mrs Hudson.  She looked sternly at Hopkins, who proceeded to blush under her gaze.  His nanny has a lot to answer for.   
  
At that moment, the box made a snuffling sound.  
  
“Oh dear,” Mrs Hudson said.  “It would appear your box has caught the Inspector’s cold.  What is inside it?”  
  
Inspector Lestrade opened the lid and Mrs Hudson peered inside.  
  
“Very sweet,” she said.  “I shall ask Billy to come up and collect them.  He can look after them in the basement until their owner collects them or they find a suitable home.”  
  
With that she swept out of the rooms.  
  
Hopkins sneezed.


	12. Nanny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was to use at least five canon characters

I had been asked by an elderly member of my club whether I could accompany him on a visit to his sister, who was currently in a nursing home.  He himself was rather unsteady on his feet and I was happy to oblige the gentleman with a helping arm. 

Upon our arrival we were shown into a comfortable sitting room, where about six elderly ladies were receiving visitors.  I was not sure of the propriety of my staying, since I had no relative of my own there, but the nurse assured me there was no reason why, since I was a doctor, I should not enter.

We found the sister looking out of the window, and after introductions, I took a chair at a slight distance to enable them to converse in private.  I looked round at the others in the room and noticed a small bird-like lady sitting with her feet raised and a blanket over her legs.  Beside her, and with his back to me, was Inspector Hopkins.

Curious, I watched them.  Hopkins appeared to lean slightly forward, and the elderly lady made a small tutting sound.  Instantly Hopkins sat upright, his back straight, with his feet neatly together on the floor.

After about ten minutes, he stood up, spoke to the lady and turned to depart.  In doing so, he spotted me across the room.  He acknowledged my presence with a brief nod of the head before departing.

I became acutely conscious that I must have been present at a particularly personal scene, and hoped that this would not make things awkward next time Hopkins came round.

As it was, I needn’t have worried.  Lestrade had called to discuss a case with Holmes the following afternoon, when I heard a knock at the door, and looking out saw it was Hopkins, who was very shortly let in by Mrs Hudson.

As soon as he entered the rooms he said, “Good afternoon, Doctor.  I am sorry not to have acknowledged you more fully yesterday afternoon, but I had been visiting my old nanny, who was always a stickler for doing things correctly.  Had I come over to speak to you, she would have insisted I introduce you to her, and I was anxious to get away, as I had arranged to play tennis with Freeman.”

“That’s no problem at all,” I replied, although I did wonder why he continued to look rather apologetic.

Lestrade however understood.  “And you’d told her you had to leave in order to get to church, because she wouldn’t have approved of playing tennis on a Sunday.”

Holmes gave a bark of laughter.  “Yet again, Lestrade, you fail to take account of all the facts.  Hopkins would never have got away with telling nanny a lie.”

Fortunately, Hopkins was spared the need to respond by the arrival of Mrs Hudson with the tea tray.

 


	13. Vigor's Horse-Action Saddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture prompt is [Here](http://granada-brett-crumbs.tumblr.com/image/160501475581.jpg)
> 
> Also written for DW's Drabble_zone prompt "When there's nobody around"

Lestrade noticed Holmes’ bandaged and elevated leg as soon as he entered our rooms.

“Oh dear,” he said.  “How did you do that?”

I laughed, and Holmes glared at me, before I said, “He was trying out Vigor’s Horse-Action Saddle, and fell off!”

Lestrade chortled.  “What on earth was he doing?”

“I wasn’t here at the time.  There was nobody around to see, but Mrs Hudson says it sounded as if he was trying to jump the bearskin rug.”

Lestrade looked round the room.  “So where’s this marvellous machine now?”

“For some reason, Holmes sent it back to the manufacturer.”


	14. Promenade Concerts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 221B. The prompt was to have a real-life celebrity make a cameo appearance.

I saw little of my friend during August of 1895.  He had discovered a series of indoor promenade concerts at the Queens Hall, and when he was not in pursuit of a case he could be guaranteed to be in attendance there.  In fact, on Monday evenings, when the programme concentrated on Wagner, Holmes made it a point of attending, regardless of whatever else he might have on.

He was most impressed with Mr Henry Wood, the young conductor, and insisted on my accompanying him to share in his pleasure.  On one occasion Mycroft, too, was in the audience, and both Holmes brothers sat with rapt attention throughout the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

Holmes did not expect me to join him all the time, but persuaded various of our acquaintances from Scotland Yard to accompany him.  Hopkins went most Fridays to listen to Beethoven; Gregson, it appeared, was fond of Schumann; and even Lestrade went once, although he admitted he may have dozed in one of the quieter passages.

Holmes’ delight was increased when he learnt there was to be a similar season of concerts the following summer.  And it was not just Wood’s musical ability Holmes’ admired, but the logical way he approached his conducting, and the confidence this inspired within his orchestra, which in Holmes’ opinion had not been bettered.


	15. Alliterative Ailments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "Whump Watson woefully with an alliterative injury of any severity."
> 
> A drabble.

The agonising ache of the burning bullet wound had eased eventually, and the ferocious fever had fortunately abated, but the doctor was left feeling weak, wobbly and washed out, with a chronic cough.  He had moved to the sitting room and lay upon the sofa covered by a shawl and propped up with pillows.  Mrs Hudson was tempting him to drinking tepid tea and try some toast.  His head hurt when he read, which left him with little in the way of entertainment, other than the pleasure of practising his pawky puns.  How Holmes would howl when he heard them.


	16. The Tate Gallery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tate Gallery first opened in 1897, on the site of the former Millbank Penitentiary, which had been used as the departure point for convicts being deported to Australia.

I have written before about Holmes’ interest in art, so it was unsurpising, shortly after the Tate Gallery was opened, Holmes suggested we pay a visit.  Holmes was in the middle of a complicated case regarding the Dutch ambassador and the stolen necklace, and he felt a visit to a gallery exhibiting only British paintings might give a different inspiration, rather than the Dutch masters on display at the embassy.

We wandered round the rooms, and Holmes inspected some of the paintings in great detail, although whether this was from artistic consideration or in connection with the case I could not tell.  I, however, do not share Holmes’ appreciation of art and contented myself with deciding which of the pictures I would be happy to hang over the fireplace, which would be more suited to my club, and which I didn’t care for at all.

We left after about an hour.  As we did so, Holmes said, “It’s slightly ironic, isn’t it, that we have just spent a most enjoyable hour admiring paintings of our beautiful land, and those who were once housed here would have been reflecting they’d never seen the land again.”

I was about to reply when Holmes suddenly exclaimed, “I knew that Millais was trying to tell me something.  Like Ophelia, the jewels are in the brook.”


	17. Letter to the Editor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was Client POV

I was reading the Times one morning, and chanced to glance at the letters page.  The following letter caught my eye, and I passed it to Holmes for his perusal.  Having read it he merely raised his eyebrows and gave me a small knowing smile.

_Sir,_

_I am writing to share with others my impressions of Mr Sherlock Holmes, in case they should wish to avail themselves of his services, for despite the widespread view of Mr Holmes’ ability it must be said he does not share the outlook one might wish for._

_Although polite, he did not treat me with the respect which is due to my position.  Indeed, had I been a tradesman I believe he would have considered my case with the same attention.  I had the distinct impression that he was not impressed with the importance of my own particular case._

_He has a disproportionate interest in financial matters.  Whereas anyone of breeding will know such areas are not to be discussed, he will ask the most impertinent questions without any apparent hesitation._

_He did not share my view of the place of the lower classes, nor it has to be said, the understanding of how privileged a person was to be invited to join with someone of our status._

_His opinion of his own abilities is entirely at odds with what should be present in such a gentleman._

_In short, I would not recommend anyone consult with Mr Holmes unless in the direst of circumstances, and even then one should not expect the result to be to one’s advantage._

_St Simon_


	18. The Barrel Organ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was to use a Music Hall song

Dr Watson had hoped he would never be required to play the barrel organ again.  However, it was not to be, and one fine morning he found himself heading towards a quiet street where a small art gallery had recently taken delivery of a priceless set of miniatures.  Accompanying him was the Ferret, in his jacket (now with reinforced seams) and fez, and Mouselet, who was wearing what could best be described as a canary yellow costume.  Not only was Watson carrying the barrel organ, but he also had a small birdcage.

Finding a suitable spot, Watson set down the birdcage, and opened the door for Mouselet to climb in.  To anyone standing on the other side of the street, she looked vaguely like a canary.  Watson then began to turn the handle of the barrel organ and the Ferret hopped up on it, and adopted his best monkey pose.

_My old man said follow the van, and don’t dilly dally on the way_ , Watson began.

As a distraction this was working very well, and Holmes and two plain clothed police officers took their places without being noticed.

_Off went the van with my home in it._

The Ferret raised a paw over his eyes and looked into the distance, as if following the van’s disappearance.

_I followed on with my old cock linnet._

Mouselet made the little swing in the birdcage move in imitation of the linnet.

And then disaster struck.  Two of the gang Holmes was after decided to use Watson as their own form of distraction.  One of them tried to knock him over, whilst the other grabbed the birdcage and shouted “’Ere granddad, what you gonna do now your cock linnet’s gorn too?”

Mouselet gave a squeak of fright.  Quick as a flash the Ferret leapt off the barrel organ and raced after the man who had taken the birdcage.  He hadn’t gone far and with a further leap the Ferret fastened his teeth on the man’s calf.  The man dropped the birdcage, the door sprung open and Mouselet scrambled out.

The man swung round to see what had assailed him, but the Ferret was too fast, and, with Mouselet clinging to the collar of his jacket, he ran out of sight.

Meanwhile, Watson had regained his balance, and pushed the barrel organ into his assailant, knocking him to the ground.  At that moment, the rest of the gang ran out of the art gallery, but Holmes and the police officers has not been as distracted as had been intended, and they didn’t get far.

With the gang under arrest, Holmes returned to assist Watson who had righted the barrel organ and retrieved the birdcage.  The Ferret and Mouselet emerged from their hiding place, Mouselet remarking that it was just as well she’d reinforced the jacket seams as they wouldn’t have survived otherwise.

Having ascertained that the only permanent damage was to the birdcage, which was rather dented, they made their way back to Baker Street, pleased with a very satisfactory morning’s work.


	19. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was 'one person Watson chose not to save'.

The women’s screams alerted me to the runaway cab as I made my way back to Baker Street.  I hurried towards the sound of the voices and arrived in time to see the cab turn on its side.  The driver was thrown clear, and I had no doubt there was also a passenger in the cab.

As the onlookers tried to release the passenger I hurried to the driver and did what I could to assist him.  He drifted in and out of consciousness, but by the time further help arrived I was reasonably confident he would survive.  I turned to see the passenger had been lifted clear and was being attended to.

Later, Inspector Lestrade called into Baker Street to see us.  “I’m sorry to have to tell you Sir Joseph Drybrook has died,” he said. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied.

“He leaves a widow and two children,” Lestrade added.  “Had you attended him, rather than the cabbie, he might have lived.”

“And no doubt his will makes provision for them,” I said.  “Had the reverse been true I imagine the cabbie’s family would have been left destitute.”

Lestrade nodded.  “I am sure you are right.”  He stood up and shook my hand as he departed.  “I do not doubt you made the right decision.”

 

 


	20. Repealing the Orange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the events of the Five Orange Pips should have worked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was to fix a canon story.

John Openshaw rose and put on his overcoat.  Holmes told him to be careful as he went, and he assured us he was armed.  I looked from one to the other.  The weather was such that one would be reluctant to go out unless forced to do so, but I quickly came to a decision.  Openshaw should not be allowed to travel back to the station by himself.

I put on my overcoat, slipped my gun into the pocket, and together we made our way to Waterloo.  We were hurrying along by the side of the river when a passerby knocked into Openshaw from behind.  He stumbled forward and before he had had time to regain his footing a second passer coming from the opposite direction barged into him.

One such occurrence is to be accepted, but two was clearly an attempted assault.  I grabbed Openshaw’s arm to steady him, and with the other arm I swung out.  The resulting groan confirmed my suspicion that this was no accident, but a deliberate attack, for an innocent person, on colliding with another, would seek to avoid further contact rather than maintaining it.

My muttered “I am in possession of a firearm, and I am not afraid to use it,” was sufficient to dissuade the men from making any further attempt.

I hustled Openshaw in the direction of the cab rank, and we were fortunate to find a cab waiting, which returned us to Baker Street.  Holmes was surprised at our return, but following my explanation of what had befallen us, agreed it would be for the best were Openshaw to spend the night on the sofa.


	21. The Ferret Flies Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know it's going to be one of those days when the Ferret being catapulted through a window and into a bowl of punch isn't the worst that could happen.

‘Which idiot said, “What’s the worst that could happen”?’ the Ocelot asked.

All eyes turned to Holmes.

“You must admit it was very improbable,” he said.

“But not impossible,” Watson sighed.  “And you yourself have said that having eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth.”

“And in this case,” the Sloth added, “the improbable is the Ferret, having been successfully catapulted through the window, landed in a large bowl of fruit punch.  Which, from the sound of him, he decided to drink.”

“We’ll have to get him back,” Mouselet squeaked.

“Of course,” Dr Watson said.  “Shall I just knock on the door and say ‘Excuse me I believe you have my drunk ferret in your dining room’?”

Mouselet’s little shoulders sagged and her bottom lip wobbled.

“I’m sorry, Mouselet, that wasn’t fair, I fear things are getting to me,” Watson hastily apologised.

Watson turned to see Holmes knocking on the front door.  The door was opened and to everyone’s horror it was not the butler, as they had expected, but Parkinson, the man who had threatened Holmes the previous day, and who they had seen Lestrade arrest a few hours earlier.  He grabbed Holmes roughly by the arm and pulled him inside, before slamming the door.

Watson’s ‘Damn’ was echoed by both the Ocelot and the Sloth in slightly more colourful language.

“Right,” said the Ocelot, “getting Mr Holmes back has to be our priority.  The Ferret will look after himself, of that I have no doubt.  We’ll need a two-pronged attack: a diversion and a rescue.”

“We’ll need Mycroft Holmes,” the Sloth said thoughtfully, “as well as Inspector Lestrade.”

“Agreed,” the Ocelot replied.  “Doctor, if you write a note for Mr Holmes senior I can convey it to him.  And meanwhile you can fetch Lestrade.”

“I’ll take a cab at once,” Watson said, then looked at the Sloth, “I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be transporting you though.”

“I’ll stay here and keep watch.  No-one will pay much attention if I hang out in one of the trees.”

***

Meanwhile the Ferret had discovered a large dolls’ house in one corner of the dining room.  He wandered in and found an apron and a mob cap hanging up on a little peg, so he put the items on.  He then pottered around the house, making chittering noises as he acted out the role of Mrs Hudson going about her daily chores.

He was in the middle of telling off an imaginary Holmes about the recent destruction of the antimacassar when much to his surprise Holmes himself came into sight, being pushed by two large men.  The Ferret ceased his chittering and peered through a window.

Holmes was pushed roughly into a chair and one of the men waved his fist in front of Holmes’ face.  The Ferret was sure the others would be coming to Holmes’ rescue, but it looked as though delaying tactics would be needed.  He remembered seeing a fire laid in the kitchen of the dolls’ house.  He scampered back down and found that matches had been used to construct the fire.  All he needed to do was use one of the matches to light the fire, smoke would go up the chimney and the two men would be distracted long enough for Holmes to do something.  What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately the chimney hadn’t actually been constructed as such and once the little fire in the grate caught light, it set fire to the back part of the house.  The Ferret was trapped in a burning building.  Luckily he had the presence of mind to jump through the window.

Luckily also the smouldering dolls’ house caught the attention of the two men.  They hurried to put out the flames and failed to notice ‘Mrs Hudson’ leaping out of a window.

Meanwhile Holmes had the presence of mind to stand up, grab hold of the flying Ferret and head rapidly for the stairs.

Just as the men realised what had happened and were shouting down the stairs for Holmes to be stopped, there was a loud knocking on the front door.  The maid opened it, to reveal a portly gentleman accompanied by a large cat.  The maid took one look at the animal, screamed and ran towards the kitchen.

Holmes leapt out through the front door.  The portly gentleman raised his hat, said, “Good evening” and slammed the door again.

The two men looked at each other, before rushing down the stairs and out through the front door, intent on grabbing hold of Holmes again.  After all, what was the worst that could happen to them?

Just as they did so a cab drew up, Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard stepped out, closely followed by two constables.

A few minutes later, Lestrade, the constables and the two men took one cab back to the Yard.  Mycroft Holmes took a second cab back to his club.  And a third cab bore everyone else back to Baker Street.

As they were travelling along, the Ferret emerged from Holmes coat pocket, still wearing the apron and cap.  He bowed, said, “Good evening gentlemen, I’m Mrs Hudson,” and promptly nose-dived onto the floor of the cab.  Holmes picked him up, dusted him off, and put him back in his pocket, in the hope he would sleep off the rest of the punch.


	22. Help from an Unexpected Quarter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was an improvised tool

We were in a difficult situation.  The men who Holmes had diligently been tracking for some time had been alerted to our presence, we had been attacked, bundled onto a cart, and abandoned in countryside some distance from the farmhouse Holmes believed to be their headquarters.  Holmes was lying beside me, unconscious, and I had sustained a broken arm in the attack, as well as significant bruising.

We had been attacked shortly after noon, and now, by the position of the sun it would soon be early evening.  We had been due to meet with Inspector Baynes, who had clearly become alarmed when we had failed to appear.  He had his men searching for us, but they were at some distance and I had no way of attracting their attention.

As I was debating what my best course of action would be I heard the sound of people approaching.  There was a hedge between us and what I presumed was the track which the people were following.  I wondered briefly whether it would be best to keep quiet in the hope they would pass by without noticing us, but the voices were those of young girls so I decided we were not in further danger.  Accordingly I called out to them.

“Hello,” one of the girls replied, “are you in need of help?”

“Yes,” I shouted.

A minute later a face appeared under the hedge.  “I don’t think we can get through here, but we passed a gap further back.  We’ll be with you soon.”

She disappeared again and a few minutes later, I saw three Girl Guides walking down beside the hedge.

They looked from Holmes’ body to me and I quickly said, “He’s unconscious, but breathing.  There is nothing which can be done for him until I can get help.”  When I saw them look at me questioningly I added, “I’m a doctor.”

I turned and winced at the pain in my arm.

“What injuries have you sustained, doctor?” one of the girls asked.

“My arm’s broken, that’s all,” I replied.

The girl quickly took off her necker.  “Let me put your arm in a sling.  It might feel a little better that way.”

I nodded and she got to work.

One of the other girls said, “We’ve got our bicycles, so I can cycle for help.  I’m afraid it will take a while to get there and back though.”

“There are people looking for us,” I said.  “I heard them calling our names not long ago.”

“We heard someone shouting.  They’re the other side of the river.  We’ll need to get their attention.”

“What if we used our neckers to throw sling shots in their direction?” the third girl said.  “Then once we’ve got their attention we can semaphore them for help.”

“That might work,” I agreed.

“Right.  Nancy and I will go and do that.  Annie can stay her with you.”

“Thank you, erm ..” I replied.

“Violet,” she answered.

“Thank you Violet.  You’ve all been very helpful.”

“We’re Girl Guides.  This is what we do.”

It wasn’t long before Nancy and Violet returned to tell me help was on its way.  Holmes had begun to stir and Annie had been able to persuade him to lie still and reassured him I was all right.

A little while later Baynes and some of his men arrived with a cart and we were able to journey back to the market town.

It was only later I realised I was still wearing Annie’s necker.  I therefore asked Baynes if he could arrange for it to be returned to her.

Six years later, shortly before the end of the Great War, I was working in a home for recuperating officers, not far from where we had been attacked.  I was struck by the efficiency of some of the young women who were working as orderlies.  It came as no great surprise to discover amongst those orderlies three who were named Annie, Nancy and Violet.

 


End file.
